molly hold me

Support your daughter by overtly telling her that you support her, not that you would still love her “even if she is gay.” When you tell someone, “I still love you even if you are gay,” what you are really saying is this: “Obviously being gay is worse than being straight. It would be an obstacle in the way of my love for you, but I am willing to overlook it.” Say, rather, “I love you, and I’m so sorry that I’ve let you infer by my silence, that I would love you less if you were a lesbian.” […] If you want anything resembling a loving, honest relationship with your daughter, don’t perpetuate the silence and avoid speaking directly about sexual orientation. Be clear, be direct, and be affirming. Your daughter deserves it.

It was too late. 

He was too late.

His words, though sincere, fell flat.

Molly couldn’t suppress the angry tears, or the accompanying frown. “How dare you?”

Sherlock gaped for a moment, wordless, before managing to speak. “I– I beg your pardon?”

“How dare you say such a thing?” She clenched her fists, her jaw; she squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ve told you countless times, you insensitive prick. Yet you still feel the need to tease and embarrass me, as though I’m some sort of plaything. I’m not an experiment, Sherlock.”

Bewilderment played across his features. “Th-that’s not–”

“Get out,” she said, staring him down.


“Get out of my morgue!” She hadn’t stamped her foot, but she may as well have.

Sherlock turned quietly and left.


“Rubbish timing,” John said later that evening as he sat at his kitchen table with his friend.

“Rubbish emotions,” Sherlock quipped. “How is it that, with everything else in my mind, I still have room for the damned things?”

John shushed him; Rosie was asleep in the next room. “You’re still human,” he replied quietly.

The consultant leaned forward, face in his hands. “How can I even know for sure what I’m feeling toward Molly?" 

"You do care about her,” John said matter-of-factly. “However, you might have come to me before bungling it up. I still can’t believe you told her you were ‘ready to have a go at a relationship.’”

“Just… help me fix it,” Sherlock said quietly, looking up at his friend. “Please.”

John just stared at him. Sherlock almost never asked for help, let alone politely.

“Fine,” he replied. “I’ll do what I can.”


After a sleepless night, Molly decided to call John for advice.

He answered at the first ring. “Molly? I was just about to call.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Did you need me to come over?”

“If that’s alright.” John glanced over at Rosie, who was making a mess of breakfast, and Sherlock, who’d fallen asleep at the table. 

“As long as Sherlock isn’t there,” she said. 

“Oh, he won’t be,” John lied.

When Molly arrived, John answered the door with a grumpy Rosie in his arms. She took the toddler and followed John to his living room, sitting down on the sofa across from him.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Molly asked, gently stroking Rosie’s hair.

“Er, yeah,” John replied. “Of course.”

“Sherlock…” she started. “Sherlock came to my morgue last night.”

John said nothing.

“He… doesn’t know where to draw the line, does he?” She set Rosie on the floor with her toys. 

John pressed his lips together. He was looking at Rosie, but his true focus was on her godmother. He sighed before replying. “How long has it been since the last time he carelessly trampled on your feelings? Months? A year?”

Her eyebrows drew together. It had been a while. “What are you getting at?” she asked.

“Clarify for me,” John said, already knowing the answer. “What did he say to you?”

Molly scoffed. “He told me he was 'ready to have a go’ at a relationship.” She swallowed hard. “With me.”

“Hm.” John thought for a moment before speaking again. “I can see why you think he was taking the mick.”

“Well, he can’t very well be serious,” she replied, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

Rosie threw her doll at Molly, who handed the doll back saying, “Rosie, remember, we must be gentle with babies.”

Rosie took it back and hugged it before going back to playing alone.

“Why not?” John asked. “Why can’t he be serious?”

Molly smiled bitterly. “You know how he is. All logic, no emotion. He prefers drugs to actual human company.”

John shook his head, a smile playing across his lips. “That’s what he wants people to think. He only pretends not to care. He can’t get hurt if he won’t let anyone get close enough.”

She bit her lip. Her heart ached to accept that as truth, but… “Maybe that’s what he wants you to think.” …she didn’t want to take the chance.

“Molly…” John sighed. “I know it’s hard for you to believe or accept, but Sherlock does care.”

She shook her head.

“Molly.” Her gaze darted up to the door, where Sherlock stood with sleepless eyes and disheveled hair.

She turned to John, her voice barely above a whisper. “You said he wouldn’t be here.”

“Molly,” Sherlock said softly, stepping into the room. “Please.”

John stood, picked Rosie up, and left the room. He’d done what he could.

Molly got to her feet, arms crossed, and eyes welling up with tears. “Why, Sherlock?”

He knit his eyebrows. “Why?" 

"Why me? Why now?”

“Why you?” he replied, tentatively stepping closer. “You are kind… caring. You see the best in people. The best in me. You have always,” his voice cracked, “been a good friend. Why now?” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not just now. It’s been… too long. I…” He paused. “I wanted you to be happy, and… I didn’t think you could be happy with me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. 

Sherlock mentally counted down. If she doesn’t say anything by the time I reach zero, I’ll just leave, he thought. The heart that had been purposely hardened felt heavier with each passing second. At zero, he turned, but stopped when she spoke.

“How long?” she asked quietly, letting her arms fall to her sides.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, still facing the door. “But… the day you said you didn’t count–it was the day I realized that you do count, Molly. More than anyone. More than… more than me.”

Another pause.

“One chance,” she said.

Sherlock turned back to face her again. “Sorry?”

“I can offer you one chance, Sherlock. If…” She took a breath. “If this is a joke, an experiment, or anything like that, you’ll tell me right now. If I find out on my own, that’s it. I won’t ever want to see you or hear from you again. Do you understand?”

Sherlock nodded silently.

“Now, tell me: are you serious about this? Do you absolutely mean what you’ve said?” Molly closed her fists, bracing herself for the answer.

He slowly closed the distance between them, leaned down, and kissed her gently before answering.


  • *in a cab; on the way to the christening*
  • Molly: *happily* Oh isn't this exciting? I bet she looks lovely. And John and Mary are wonderful parents...
  • Sherlock: *on his phone* Mmm.
  • Molly: *sighs* Oh, her name is just beautiful *giggles* I always wanted to name my daughter Persephone.
  • Sherlock: *glances at her*
  • Molly: *rolls her eyes* Hey, I was eleven at the time and really into all that mythology stuff.
  • Sherlock: *still typing* There are worse names for a child than Persephone Holmes.
  • Molly: ...
  • Molly: *raises an eyebrow* Why would it be Holmes?
  • Sherlock: *shrugs* I always assumed you'd take your husband's name.
  • Molly: *scoffs* Yeah, well, I'm not going to marry Mycroft!
  • Sherlock: *confused* We've been sleeping together and you think-
  • Molly: *giggles* No, I mean, I just thought you weren't the marrying kind.
  • Sherlock: *sighs* Sex, Molly. I don't do that with just anyone.
  • Molly: *raises an eyebrow* You love me?
  • Sherlock: Obviously.
  • Molly: *smirks* I'm sorry? I didn't catch that.
  • Sherlock: *smiles* I love you.
  • Molly: *takes his hand* I love you too.
  • Sherlock: *coughs* So you'll...marry me, then?
  • Molly: *kisses his cheek* Of course I will.

A Long Wait

221B Baker Street

Molly: I am not sure if this is a good environment for a baby, Sherlock.

Sherlock: Why not, Molly? I got everything in the list you gave me. We could make a fine nursery here. And you can play babysitting with all the help you need.

Molly: From you?

Sherlock: (hesitated) Yes…and from Mrs.Hudson, of course.

Molly: She is your landlady not your housekeeper, Sherlock.

Sherlock: Are there any differences?

Molly: (sighed) I know you don’t like the idea of me,moving back to my flat, but I have to take care of Marble. I am not sure if Jennifer will be happy if I do this here.

Sherlock: She has no say in this, Molly. Your sister left her daughter under your care. You get to make all the decision.

Molly hold little Marble securely in her arm as she walked around the flat. Sherlock had tried his best to rearrange everything. His experiment in the kitchen was replaced by a baby bottle warmer, some plastic containers for formula milk and diaper basket. There were even a nice rocking chair and a pram setting by the window but the things that caught Molly’s attention most were Billy, the skull and a pocket knife on the fireplace.

Molly: So you are not going to put Billy away no matter what.

Sherlock: I don’t see the significant correlation between the child’s development and Billy, being in my living room, Molly. Marble is barely 6 months old.

Molly: Alright Billy can stay but the pocket knife will have to go, Sherlock.

Sherlock: But…

Molly: Ah…ah…There is no excuse for that; my decision, my rule.

Sherlock Holmes huffed and put his pocket knife away. Molly grinned warmly and gave him little Marble.

Molly: Now help me hold her please, I will get her some milk.

Sherlock awkwardly held the baby in his arm. The detective then paced slowly around as he bounced the baby gently. Molly starred at him with amazement.

Molly: You will make a good father, Sherlock.

Sherlock: Not if I don’t have any children.

Molly: Why not?

Sherlock: Because my partner has just turned down my marriage proposal for the fifth time in a year.

Molly: Oh…I am sorry. I just…em…(Sighed) I just….

Sherlock: (grinned but somehow sadly) It’s OK, Molly. I understand that you are not sure about my feeling for you. I guess I have to work harder to earn your trust.

Molly walked up to him, hugged him from behind and kissed his shoulder.

Molly: I love you, Sherlock. Don’t you ever think that I don’t. I just need time, we need time.

Sherlock: I can wait and for you I will wait.


  • *221B*
  • Client: *wringing his hands* Look, mate, I'm not asking for much. I just...want to find her.
  • Sherlock: *sitting in his chair; hands clasped* She knew of your affair?
  • Client: *guilty* That's what we was arguing-
  • Molly: *bursts in* Right, mister, I've had it!
  • Sherlock: *blinks; chuckles nervously* Molly, I'm-
  • Molly: *points* I don't care. I-I'm not some case work you can just *pauses* do.
  • Client: *raises his eyebrows*
  • Molly: *swallows* I barely get to see you a-and when I do, it's for experiments or casework.
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *nods* You're right.
  • Molly: *stunned* I am?
  • Sherlock: Yes. I've been neglecting you. We need to spend more time together.
  • Molly: *smiles* I'd like that.
  • Sherlock: *removes his phone* I'll text Angelo. He'll have the finest wine on ice, a private table ready for tonight.
  • Molly: *kisses his cheek* Can't wait *smiles awkwardly at the client* sorry for interrupting. Err, good luck with... *gestures; leaves*
  • Sherlock: *puts his phone away* I'm going to marry her.
  • Client: *nods slowly* Good for you.
  • John: What about that one?
  • Sherlock: Don't be ridiculous, John...Molly's taste in rings is unique; I want something special for hers.
  • John: ...
  • John: I was talking about Mary.
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: So was I.
  • John: But you said-
  • Sherlock: Mary, yes.
  • John: Wait, are you going to-
  • Sherlock: No.
  • John: ...oh, my God.
  • Sherlock:, no.
  • John: You're going to propose?
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: ...I've got to find the right bloody ring first.
  • *midnight, Bart's morgue*
  • Sherlock: *examining body*
  • Molly: *stifles yawn*
  • John: *awkward* We really appreciate this, Molly. Thanks for staying on *pause; kicks Sherlock* Don't we?
  • Sherlock: *still looking* Mmm.
  • Molly: *rolls her eyes* I took some dirt and blood samples, they're in the lab as we speak. She was clearly an active woman...liked walking her dogs, going for morning runs; there's no external wound or history of medical problems-
  • Sherlock: *watching her* She got on well with her ex-husband, they share custody of their children. But she was a rich woman, owned an art gallery *moves to stand next to her* Rivalry; very easy to poison a busy woman.
  • John: *swivelling his eyes like he's watching a tennis match*
  • Molly: *nods; rubbing her eyes* Yeah, I definitely wasn't a robbery; all of her possessions were found in her purse. I think-
  • Sherlock: *kisses her*
  • John: *raises his eyebrows*
  • -several moments later, or when Sherlock & Molly have finally stopped snogging-
  • Molly: *blushing furiously; squeaks* Wh-what was that for?
  • Sherlock: *clears his throat* You, um, you've quite the brain, Molly Hooper. In that, the head...of yours. Under all that hair. Somewhere *blushing also*
  • Molly: *smiles* Are you blushing?
  • Sherlock: No. Come, John, we have to... *promptly leaves the morgue*
  • John: *still staring incredulously at Sherlock as they leave*
  • -LATER-
  • *buzz*
  • Molly: *removes her phone; reads text* Bring results to Baker Street. The case may be almost wrapped but we haven't started the debriefing yet. SH
  • Molly: *giggles*
  • *buzz*
  • Molly: *reads text* Shut up. SH
  • *John and Mary's vow renewal reception*
  • Sherlock: *watching Molly*
  • Molly: *chatting with Mary*
  • Rosamund: *pokes Sherlock in the knee* Uncle Sherlock?
  • Sherlock: *looks down* Aren't you supposed to be asleep?
  • Rosamund: *bats her eyelashes* Do you want to dance with me?
  • Sherlock: *finishes his drink* Yes, why not? Sounds rather fun.
  • Rosamund: *grins* Yay! I'm over there *points at Molly*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: Erm...
  • Rosamund: *rolls her eyes; walks behind him and begins pushing him towards Mary and Molly with both hands*
  • Sherlock: *panicking; hisses* I didn't sign up for this.
  • Rosamund: *scoffs* Yeah, you did.
  • -they stop in front of the waiting women, Sherlock smiling awkwardly-
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Mary: *clears her throat* I'll just go and...see if John's drunk *trots over to John*
  • Molly: *awkward* Um, it was a lovely ceremony today.
  • Sherlock: *nods*
  • Rosamund: *looking between them; rolls her eyes, elbows Sherlock* Ask her, Uncle Sherlock!
  • Molly: *confused*
  • Sherlock: *glances at the empty dancefloor* Uh, Molly... *hesitates* Rosie would like to know if you wanted to dance with her.
  • Rosamund: *under her breath* Wimp.
  • Molly: *smiles at Rosie* Oh, I'd love to, sweetheart. You're not usually shy.
  • Rosamund: *glaring at Sherlock* No.
  • Sherlock: *avoding looking at her; looks at Molly instead*
  • Molly: *smiling shyly*
  • Rosamund: *huffs* For God's sake *stomps off to drag a chair over to them; crawls onto the chair and gently pushes their heads together*
  • Sherlock & Molly: *not shocked in the slightest that they're suddenly kissing*
  • Rosamund: *smiles triumphantly*
  • *Hooper's flat*
  • Hooper: enters his bedroom, yawning; removing his waistcoat*
  • Holmes: *leaning against the wall; smirking* Hooper.
  • Hooper: *screams*
  • Holmes: *raises an eyebrow*
  • Hooper: *clears his throat; annoyed* What the hell are you doing here?
  • Holmes: Simple *sits on the edge of his bed* I need the space. Your space, specifically.
  • Hooper: *confused* What for?
  • Holmes: To think.
  • Hooper: *folds his arms* You have your own space.
  • Holmes: *nods slowly* Yeeees but they have an infant.
  • Hooper: *hesitates* You cannot stay here.
  • Holmes: *raises an eyebrow* Something to hide?
  • Hooper: *blushes* Not at all.
  • Holmes: *shrugs* There is no issue, then *lies down*
  • Hooper: *adamant* No, you mustn't stay. Think of the neighbours. We cannot share a bed. I have to change-
  • Holmes: *reaches beside her bed* Into this, perhaps? *lifts a nightdress*
  • Hooper: *squeaks* Certainly not!
  • Holmes: *looks up; amused* No, please do. We could do with a pleasant evening for a change *tosses her the dress; smirks* If you don't mind.
  • Hooper: *rolls his eyes* I do mind actually *approaches the bed; looks down at him* I prefer to sleep nude.
  • Holmes: *smirks*
🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃
  • *Slughorn's party*
  • John: *waiting*
  • Sherlock: *approaching; apparently headless, his head tucked under his arm*
  • John: *horrified* Oh my God!
  • Sherlock: *rolls his eyes* For the love of Merlin, John. It's a spell.
  • John: *blinking* Yeah but- *waves his hand where Sherlock's head's supposed to be* bloody hell, what happened to Jack Skellington?
  • Sherlock: I don't know what that is.
  • John: *shakes his head* Fucking show off.
  • Mary: *bringing over drinks; smirks* You bottled it, then?
  • Sherlock: *takes the drink* I think she'll be impressed.
  • Mary: *crouches until she's eye level with him* You're pathetic.
  • Sherlock: *swallows his drink with great difficulty* I know. Where is she?
  • Mary: By the punch.
  • -at the punch bowl-
  • Molly: *making drinks*
  • Sherlock: *clears his throat*
  • Molly: *smiles* I was wondering when you'd- *turns around; slowly looks down at his face* -get here.
  • Sherlock: *smiles* I considered joining the Headless Hunt. No luck.
  • Molly: *impressed* You never give anyone else a chance, do you?
  • Sherlock: *smug* Nope. Dance with me.
  • Molly: *chuckles* Now this should be interesting.
  • -by the fireplace-
  • John & Mary: *watching Sherlock and Molly dance, his disembodied head watching happily*
  • John: *disturbed* This has to be the weirdest thing I've ever seen.
  • Mary: *grinning* Really? We should stick around until they start snogging, then.
  • John: *grimaces* You had to say that, didn't you?
☃Boxing Day☃
  • ~~
  • *dinner with the Holmes'*
  • Mummy Holmes: *smiling* So, Molly, it's lovely to finally meet you. Sherlock's told us all about you.
  • Molly: *blushes* Really?
  • Sherlock: *laughs awkwardly* Eat the sprouts, mother.
  • Daddy Holmes: *nods* Mmm, always on about your adventures. He really looks forward to seeing you.
  • Sherlock: *loudly* Carrots, anyone?
  • Molly: *giggling* Well, I-
  • Mummy Holmes: Never shuts up, does he, dear?
  • Daddy Holmes: Yeah, well, that's nothing new.
  • Molly: *laughs*
  • Sherlock: *rubbing his forehead*
  • Mycroft: *sighs* For God's sake, Sherlock just tell Molly you love her so we can end this. Please. I'm begging you!
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Molly: ...
  • Mummy Holmes: ...
  • Daddy Holmes: ...
  • Mycroft: *clears his throat* Potatoes?
  • *in the morgue*
  • Sherlock: *entering; cheerful* Morning, Molly.
  • Wiggins: *following* Hey...
  • Sherlock: *rolls his eyes; gesturing between the two* Billy Wiggins, Molly Hooper...she's my pathologist.
  • Molly: *shaking his hand* Guilty as charged *grins*
  • Wiggins: *smiles* It's nice to meet you.
  • Sherlock: *quickly* Yes, yes...of course it is. Let go of her hand and wait over there.
  • Wiggins: *thinking* Hang on...Molly? Molly Hooper? Bart's Molly? Brown hair, eyes...short and sweet?
  • Molly: *giggles* You're good at that *moving over to her bench* You've heard about me, then?
  • Wiggins: *glancing smugly at Sherlock* Oh yeah.
  • Sherlock: *blushing a little* Get on with it.
  • Molly: *snaps on her gloves; raises an eyebrow*
  • Sherlock: Please.
  • Molly: *pulls back the cover* Toxicology was inconclusive. Maybe it was natural causes; there was no history of heart disease or-
  • Wiggins: *suddenly jumps down from the bench* Oh my YOU'RE the miss-
  • Sherlock: *kicks him*
  • Wiggins: Owww! Don't kick me.
  • Sherlock: *hisses* Go away.
  • Wiggins: Alright...jeeze *mutters as he leaves* I'm never getting married.
  • Molly: *blinks* He seems nice.
  • Sherlock: Forget him, he's an idiot *gestures* Continue.
  • Molly: *smiles* I'm the missus?
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *clears his throat* I-it was natural causes.
Quite Ready
  • Molly: *lying on a Hospital bed; looking around and tapping her fingers in boredom*
  • Molly: *sees the tray of medical intruments; picks up the forceps, scoffs* Absolutely not.
  • Sherlock: *enters; casually* Morning.
  • Molly: *sits up; alarmed* Morning.
  • Sherlock: *raises an eyebrow at the forceps still in her hand* You're eager.
  • Molly: *replaces the instrument; scowling* What are you doing here?
  • Sherlock: *matter-of-factly* I'm here to see my son.
  • Molly: *frustrated* Oh for God's sake. I'm not having a boy!
  • Sherlock: *fluffs her pillow* You're having a boy.
  • Molly: *folds her arms* What makes you so sure?
  • Sherlock: He's a Holmes.
  • Molly: *scoffs* No, he- it isn't *shakes her head* How did you even find out about today?
  • Sherlock: Your mother. I think she's on my side.
  • Molly: *through gritted teeth* I don't need your help.
  • Sherlock: *rolls his eyes* Yes, you've said.
  • Molly: *pouts* I can't force you to leave-
  • Sherlock: *sits in the chair beside her* Nope.
  • Molly: ...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Molly: ...
  • Sherlock: *quietly* Did you get the ice cream?
  • Molly: *softly* Yes...thank you.
  • Sherlock: *shrugs* My mother enjoyed it when she was pregnant. With her boys *glances at her*
  • Molly: *shakes her head* You're going to be disappointed. We Hooper ladies have never let men tell us what to do.
  • Sherlock: *smirks; leans forward* Now that's not strictly true, is it?
  • Molly: *frowns* Shut up.
  • Sherlock: *chuckles*
  • ...
  • Sherlock: You never asked me how I felt about it.
  • Molly: ...
  • Molly: *swallows* How do you feel about it?
  • Sonographer: *enters; consulting a clipboard* Right...good morning, Miss Hooper, I'm Doctor Montague. Just relax and get comfortable, we'll have a look at the little one. So *looks up, smiling* how are we feeling today?
  • Sherlock: *stands up* Ready *grasps Molly's hand* quite ready.
  • Molly: What have you done?
  • Sherlock: Simple. Our signatures are both printed on a legally binding document of marriage. Here's the ring.
  • Molly: *annoyed* I don't want your bloody ring!
  • Sherlock: *mumbles* You were fine about it yesterday.
  • Molly: Well, yes, but I thought you needed it for the case. Why is it real?
  • Sherlock: Look, don't make me say it. Just take the ring, change your name to Holmes and move in with me. We'll say no more about it.
  • Molly: Are you forgetting about Tom?
  • Sherlock: *angry* For God's sake, you are my wife now. Why are you making things so difficult when they're really quite simple? Why can't you just-
  • Molly: *grabs Sherlock's scarf; kisses him*
  • Sherlock: ...that was rude. I was about to say I love you. Can you accept that?
  • Molly: ...
  • Molly: About this ring...
  • Sherlock: *grins*